Standing on the Edge
by Last Harlequin
Summary: Cyberpunk 2020, a harsh world, a terrible place to live, even if you have all the money, all the power, all the fame, all the fortune. When a young woman loses nearly all of her body to the never ending conflict on the streets she replaces it with cold steel and circuitry, but when you do that, you lose something. The sort of change that can leave one's humanity in tatters.


The feeling of pounding music, Six had heard once that some solos couldn't hang out in clubs because the crash of the music would trigger their Shellshock. The bodies and motion playing merry havoc with their combat-honed senses. every flailing limb carried a weapon, every smile had a knife behind it. She'd never known what they were talking about. It was one of her great pleasures in life, being able to let go of her job as easily as she did.

She'd been worried at first, a lingering anxiety over her new systems, but Rou was there for her, and he knew that once she got in the door the anxiety would fade. He was right and she was able to slide into the crowd like she always had, it wasn't so hard. The motion and light and pound and press of humanity. The Writhing sea of hot sweaty bodies moving in tandem to the pound of the beat. It felt great once she was amongst them, moving with them, brushing against people with purpose and without. She felt herself rise and fall with the music almost able to forget her extensive remodeling.

The explosion had just been the final note on a running battle. She was alive, It wasn't, that was the final count, she knew she was lucky for that to be true. she'd broken every bone in her left arm, she hadn't had a right arm, her left ankle was shattered and her hip was fractured in three places, half her ribs were just as bad off, her left eye was a bloody ruin. Her hair was the greatest casualty though, the blast of plasma had carved a millimeter deep furrow in her head, she'd been beyond lucky. But it had cost her both her pigtails. That monowhip however had somehow survived. and that was how she'd won, a monogarrote was a rather final way of removing a throat, even if it cost her most of her fingers to do it.

Victory has a price, if only you're willing to pay it. She'd taken the Engine room whole, they'd always managed to touch off the reactors before they could be taken. She'd taken one whole. Her bonus went into her remodeling. skin and bone lacing, a cyberheart, and a new ribcage. Arms and legs of gleaming chrome, she'd turned down the hair extensions, it felt like cheating. One change deserved others, her scalp was bare for now, shaved so she could let it grow back. It would take twenty years to get back where she was, it would remind her to keep her head down. She'd woken up cheery from the multiple surgeries, always kind to the nurses who came to value her company, little by little over the weeks as they converted her broken body into it's new form, a rebuilt and reinforced spine. a Cybereye, Two upsized reinforced strengthened and hardened limbs, legs that could go faster than she'd ever been able to manage with meat. She knew they were watching her as they helped her adjust. She could hear the whispers with her new ears. How she could snap at any instant covered in so much chrome. She tried to ignore them. She was still herself even if when she looked down her delicately muscled tummy ended into chrome and mesh trending into her legs. It wasn't exactly subtle, but she'd never been subtle.

Back to reality, slamming in the club rubbing against a body behind her, her eyes shining as she tried to let herself fade back into the scene. But she saw someone pause in their movement, the break in the motion catching her eye as they shifted a step away from her. She tried to ignore it, so what if one guy was intimidated, she'd intimidated plenty of guys. Noticing it once however, tunes the brain, and she noticed the subtle gravitation of people away from her. The dance floor further away slowly tightening from the density. It broke her rhythm and the body behind her shouted over the music with a male voice, slight anxiety, tightness of tone indicating the beginnings of adrenal increases. "Hey Cyberbabe, what's the glitch?" he asks and she closes her eyes and slowly stops as he steps away from her and she walks away from the floor. Cyberbabe. that's what she was. Sure. She made her way to a seat along the outside and sat heavily on a bench that creaked ominously as she shifted and leaned forward onto her knees, staring down at the lights and strobes playing off the chrome of her limbs and she felt her chest tighten. She started badly when she felt the impact of something heavy on her metal shoulder and tighten. She turned her head knowing from his size and the pattern of his boots and legs who it was before she even looked up into the blank surface that was his face, he had a thoughtful frown on his mouth. "You Alright?" he mouthed clearly, her eye reading it through the software and playing the words in her mind nigh instantly, even as her ear filtered the crowd to pull his voice, partially muffled through to her ears in mimic of the tone. she looked over where his massive cyber arm rested on the metal of her shoulder, where the weight would bear better than against her flesh where it could cause strain. Roulette was always a good guy. she looked at his other arm though, meat still even after all that had happened.

She reached out with her hand and took his about the wrist, he didn't react aside from a slight tick down in his frown as she pulled his hand to lay it on the skin of her head, her other hand coming up to hold it there as his palm rested on her sweaty forehead. the feeling of flesh against flesh grounded her. the sounds of the music faded a little as she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath through synthetic lungs tasting the air detecting trace amounts of drugs and monitoring the exchange closely, she could almost hear the whirring of power through circuits inside her head.

Roulette looked down at Six, taller now on her limbs, Partial Borg Conversion hit people in different ways, and he'd been watching her closely. He remembered what the shrinks had told him way back when. Six though, she was always an odd duck, she'd seemed larger than life, bouncing back from what should have been certain death not only with victory, but overwhelming victory. To see her now, she seemed to shrink, and her youth really stood out to him for a moment, as he felt her pull his hand down her face to what he imagined to be her cheek, he couldn't easily see behind her arms. What he did feel was the hot water hitting the edge of his palm, and he was pretty sure it wasn't sweat.


End file.
